Borrowed Soul
by Sora Maro
Summary: Life was simple. It was All American, inviting, very ... Apple Pie. Susanna Bell had it all together, the perfect of everything with just a tad bit of abnormal - after all nothing is perfect. Everything is lovely and all together - Until it isn't.
1. Chapter 1

**Finally marching into the Supernatural Fandom and I cannot say I am disappointed. I adore this Fandom absolutely. Now because I am starting this, does not mean that those reading my Danny Phantom/Percy Jackson crossover will not be getting updates. I will in fact be updating within the next two weeks.**

 **Special thanks to Hillywood and their Supernatural Parody. Without it, I would have never gotten into this fandom.**

 **Word Count: 1,821**

 **Genre: Supernatural; Hurt/Comfort**

 **Song of choice to listen to: Icarus/Things We Lost to the Flames - Bastille**

* * *

Dover, New Hampshire is right smack dab in the middle of everything, driving distance to mountains, the oceans, and the lakes; completely surrounded by trees and well worth the drive to. Cute as a button, that town, perfect for a normal apple pie family and their outrageously large brood.

Seven children. The townsfolk would whisper, clamoring about to take a look at the odd oversized clan. The head of the family, Mister Larry Bell, and his darling wife Jasmine Bell keep to themselves and are good church going folks. The eldest son married off seven years ago and runs a lovely little art shop with his wife Clara. Jed, the second son, flew the coop and vanished somewhere down South and appears every fortyear for some family reunion or other. Markus, the third child with the red scruffy beard and the beauteous Latina wife, ran down to Portsmouth and visits on the weekends. Fourth son, Ezekiel, runs a repair shop with his brother-in-law Roger and Roger's wife Leah runs the front desk of their car workshop. Both Roger and Leah stuck around Dover and even increased the Bell clan with the addition of redhead twins with mismatching green and blue eyes named Ivan and Isaac. The youngest daughter, Susanna stuck around the shop and learned mechanics and all about cars from Ezekiel and Roger. Her baby brother Jon ran wild, dashing through the streets like a beanpole with a baby face.

Susanna turns her head and pretends not to hear the words that come from the people around her as she walks the street with her heavy boots on and her leather jacket from Jed hanging on her shoulders. Shrugging it all the way on, her long dark hair flung strands into her face and she scowls. Using her thumb, she loops the hair back behind her left ear and continues forward to the library where her little brother would probably have been. Even if he wasn't…

Her pink lips etch into a smirk as she bounds up the stone steps into the library where her brother would be. She opens the door and slips in as sly as cat and jumps up more stairs to find her brother. The aging librarian gives her a roll of the eye and doesn't stop the exasperated smile from reaching her face as Susanna notices her at the desk.

"Susanna Bell, looking for auto mechanic books today or your brother?" The twang in the librarian's voice doesn't go unnoticed and Susanna mentally picks it apart, attempting for the umpteenth to figure out where that accent is from.

With an ever present sass, Susanna raises a thick eyebrow. "You mean you're not a mind reader?"

"He's upstairs in the teen loft area, in fact he hasn't come down since he got here around eleven-thirty this morning." Rosemarie gestures towards the open doorway at the other side of the room.

"Thanks, 'Marie. You're a doll." She winks one of her sky blue eyes and dashes forward as if she is twelve and not nineteen.

The young woman crosses the threshold only to land on her bum. She rubs her sore bottom and glares up at the Sasquatch in her way. "Seriously, man? You couldn't have watched where you were going?"

From one abnormal person to an abnormally tall man, he chuckles while she scowls. Realizing the situation, he clears his throat and gives her a hand up. Frowning at it, she hesitates to place her pale hand in his mammoth, sandy tan one.

"Sorry about that," Giant man awkwardly states, "Usually, I'm better at that."

Susanna flushes, anxiety bubbling in her chest. "Uh – yeah- okay, well make sure it doesn't happen next time, Sasquatch?" She swallows and passes by the unusually tall man and jumps up the stairs.

The moment Susanna's boot touched down on the floor of the loft, she saw her brother on a couch surrounded by books. His gray eyes quickly buzzing through all the information faster than a bullet through the air. He sits cross leg on the couch and bites down on his bottom lip, trying to absorb all the knowledge held captive in the books.

"You read any harder, Jon?" She plops down beside him with a smile dancing on her face.

Jolting upwards, she can see his thin baby-round face facing her with a confused look on his face. A split second later recognition lights in his eyes. "Oh, did I read too long again?" His teenage voice cracks just a bit.

"Eh," She waves it off, "Don't worry about it. Just worry about coming home in time for dinner."

"Who's at home for dinner?"

"Well, there's Dad," She counts off with her stubby fingers, "Mom, Zeke, Roger, Leah, and the twins, plus us. So not too many." Susanna smiles.

Jon rolls his shoulders and clenches his small eyes for just a moment. Chuckling at her baby brother, Susanna pats his shoulder and grabs a couple books. "You doing research again?" When he nods, she hums. "What on?"

"Avoiding taxes."

"Ha ha, you don't even do taxes, Jon. You're not even old enough yet. Now someone like me would have to do 'em. In fact I have done 'em. They take forever and a day."

"Oh ha ha." He rolls his now opened eyes and picks up some other books. "So it's not tax avoidance. But, it's a project of mine, and I am not telling you."

She chuckles. "Whatever you say, Stringbean."

The nickname isn't horribly inaccurate for her brother. The kid was sixteen and six foot even, barely making it to one-fifteen pounds. Susanna admits to herself often how there is no feasible way Jon should be that skinny eating all the junk he does, but he is. Her brother is paler than her, ghostly even, from the lack of sunlight he gets. All length, no width.

They check the books out of the library and march down the stairs, briefly passing the Sasquatch that Susanna had run into before. His hazel eyes found her blue and she feels the blood pool in her cheeks. The dude with longer hair kept his eyes trained on her as she left the library.

Susanna shudders, feeling the creepy crawlies slithering up her spinal cord.

Once out of the library, Jon slides his backpack off his back and sets it on the stone half wall along the walkway. Piling in the books, Susanna gives him his other ones and the siblings set off for the sidewalk and begin to walk home.

Boring.

Uneventful.

Mundane.

Susanna feels the urge to yawn as she trudges towards her house on Belknap street. They find themselves in front of a white porch of a blue Victorian two-story house that housed the Bell family.

She steps up the white creaky boards and dashes through the screen and main door into the hallway. "Mom! We're home!"

"Hey, Susanna!" Her face split into a giant grin as she tackles her brother.

"Jed! Now freaking way!" She lets go of him and brushes the flying strands out of her face. "When did you get here? H-how did you get here? Man, I haven't see you in forever!" Susanna let loose a squeal.

Her tallest brother, though not matching that Sasquatch's height, stands neatly at six-three, though he claims an inch less. Jed smiles sweetly and chuckles, moving to hug Jon next. The siblings huddle close together and make it just in time for the large family dinner Mom prepared prior to their arrival.

Seated around the table, the entire family bow their heads and pray the family prayer. Looking upwards at one another, they all begin clamoring around and laughter fills the air. Jed recounts the story of how he managed to make it for the weekend. Dad and Mom hold hands, over twenty-ones drink their beverage of choice while Susanna, Jon and the nephews drink water and/or milk (in the nephew's case).

Gnawing down a piece of chicken, Susanna turns to Roger and poses a question. "What was that car that you recently looked at, down at the shop?"

"Oh that?" Her muscle-bound brother-in-law rubs his open palm against his five-o-clock-shadow. "Some tall guy brought in a beaut. A '67 Chevy Impala. Man, they don't make cars like that anymore, can't find anything similar anywhere."

"What's the damage?"

He picks up his fork and pokes the mashed potatoes with it. "Engine's finicky. It'll need a new set of brakes and possibly a new carburetor. Looks pricey, especially for that year. Finding something that will go with that system is gonna be rough."

"Craigslist-it then." She shrugs and adds a little more gravy to her own potatoes.

Jed stops eating and clinks the silverware to the plate. Something feels cold. Susanna clutches the leather jacket tighter around her. His eyes – they look…

"Jed?" Susanna's mind flashes back to her nightmares. Her breath catches.

Black, soulless.

Death.

She gulps down and shouts at her family, "Run! N-"

Jed's hand shoots out at her and she gags, choking on a metallic taste – copper – blood. She collapses on the floor, wheezing. Her black-eyed brother cackles, surging out of view and the screams of her family fill her ears, imprinting itself onto her brain.

She grabs a napkin shakily, and shoves it against the bloody hole. Crawling along the floor, she gets up and stumbles about. The monster drops Jed like yesterday's fashions and thunders throughout the entire house. Screams upon bloody terror, she jumps out of her skin, tripping over a body.

Ivan.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Shrieking, Susanna felt the clothe pinch around her throat and she presses her hand against it. Thud.

Pain!

She panicks and dashes, forgetting about her punctured throat and trips about. Fire hungers after her and the black-eyed evil laughs – oh how it howled in laughter – as it claws after her.

Her heart drops and smoke pierces her lungs and pricks her eyes. Wheezing, she screams for help. Susanna stumbles about, leaning against the walls. Her voice raw and torn, her breathing haggard, and her eyes red from smoke and tears. She gives one more cry as she clambers for the door, trying to run, avoid the monster that claws at her very existence.

A hand reaches out and yanks her away. She's given something. Draped over her shoulders is a blanket, a yellow blanket and tears prick her eyes. Susanna's head swims and she recognizes the world around her. Jumping up, she breaks for the flame-licked house. Something clutches around her middle and she yelps, screeches louder than a banshee.

"No!" Susanna screeches, writhing against the arms that keep her pinned down. "No! My family!"

"Please, you have to stay here! There's nothing you can do." His voice, harsh and deep from emotion, shifted into compassion and calmness.

Numbness floods her vision, painting her world blacker than the night. Susanna collapses in the stranger's arms.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoy this installment. Hopefully, you'll find the next update arriving in two -three weeks with a longer chapter.**

 **This type of writing is incredibly different comparatively with my normal everyday writing. I have never written anything in Suspense or Supernatural genres before. As it is also my first time writing in the Supernatural fandom, I am hoping to have gotten the voices correctly. You'll see more of the main gang soon enough, and hopefully in character.**

 **Thank you for reading! Please R &R. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Please enjoy. I've done as much research as I could have, like two seasons in a week and then rewatching and catching up the current season as best I can without spoiling what I'm going through right now. Anywho, here's chapter two of _Borrowed Soul_.**

 **Definitely don't own _Supernatural_.**

 **Warning: Cursing**

 **Word Count: 1,782**

 **Genre: Hurt/Comfort; Angst**

 **Suggested Song: I Bet You Don't Curse God - Christina Grimmie**

* * *

She touches the tourniquet on her neck and attempts a shaky breath. Her hospital bed, stiff and encasing her with the white room. Nary a window to view the outside nor decor of many kinds. Fingers brush along the whole. Jed's ice smile and devil black eyes laugh at her as his pointer finger gouges her throat, surgically missing her esophagus and piercing only muscle. Doctors kept informing her of how truly luck she is to be there – to be alive. Angry red lines crisscross her back and arms, thrumming alive and reminding her of her inability. Susanna had been told of the many scars she would acquire once they finish healing.

The fingers drift then from her neck to her side until she finds the button. Pressing it, Susanna groans in pain as the morphine level drops considerably. Tears wet her eyes.

Why is it her?

Why is she alive?

 _Knock-knock-knock_.

Susanna jolts her head towards the direction of the door, writhing at the instant pain. Gravelly, she groans, "Come in."

Door creaks open and that long-hair man, brown all over with those dark hazel eyes steps in. Eyes wide and mouth tilts in a frown, No-Name awkwardly waves to her and motions to the seat next to her bed. "Mind if I sit?"

"What do you want?" She bites, cringing at the pressure from using her voice or just from moving in general.

He sits down, leaning forward. "I'm detective inspector Jones, do you mind answering a couple questions?" He yanks out a badge and flashes it at her.

"Only when you're not lying to me." She grits between her teeth. Her sallow blue eyes zero-in on his hazel and she scowls. "What's your real name?"

He blubbers for a moment before ducking his head and shaking it. With a strained smile, 'Detective Jones's hair flips as he looks back at her. "My name is Sam, Sam Winchester. Yours is Susanna Bell, right?"

Susanna nods, gripping her bed sheet.

"Do you mind telling me what happened?" Sam tilts his head. Despite his stoic expression, Susanna is reminded of a beaten puppy, slowly wagging its tail at her, hoping for something to nibble on. She sighs. Sam continues on, adjusting his position in the awkward plastic chair, "I wanna make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else."

For a moment, Susanna twists her head away and finds herself eighteen hours ago, having a wonderful meal with her family. Normal. Her siblings and nephews all around on table, just enjoying her mom's home cooking. Simple. Teasing one another, and Leah yelling at her and Roger for talking shop at the table. Wonderful. Her two nephews, Isaac and Ivan, mashing potato on to the other twin. Shuddering a gasp, she blinks out of the memories and back to the white walls with vague medical tools that do who knows what. Eighteen-fucking-hours ago. She swallows. Her nostrils flare and her knuckles turn white.

"It was normal. I had brought my brother home from the library as normal. Jed surprised us at the door, which he does –" She stops. Shuddering a breathe, Susanna answers his question. "Which he did on occasion. We had dinner and Jed – Gah, his eyes went black." Her heart stops as Jed stares at her – his eyes pitch black. Blinking, Susanna sighs as Jed vanishes. "Next thing, I recall," Her nostrils fill with the scent of burning and blood and fire. "I'm trying to escape while people are dying and I'm being attacked."

Screams thunder in her ears.

Her heart rate skyrockets.

She cringes as the fire crackles and sirens roar.

Grime crunches under her fingertips and her feet ache. Ash pelts her skin and blood hardens.

pain.

Pain.

PAIN!

Susanna shudders back a scream and a hand gentles hers. There, she's in the hospital. No fire, no black eyes, nothing. White walls, a beeping monitor and her heavy breathing. Glancing down at her held hand, Susanna follows the trail to the concerned face of Sam Winchester, saying – what is he saying?

"Susanna, I promise, you're okay." Her ears start to focus on his voice. Deep, soothing, almost baritone in nature, it's not gravelly or too heavily accented, something she can audibly lean on. "Susanna, you are in the hospital. You are in a hospital bed, resting and healing. You're not crazy, you're going to be fine. You underwent a traumatic experience."

She watches him, listening and letting the cogs click in her head.

"You know what it was." Not a question, it is a fact, something he knows.

The calm goes away. Sam swallows and grimaces. "Unfortunately, I do. It's a supernatural creature. A demon, if you will."

"Okay." She yanks her hand from his, resisting the urge to double over in pain.

Pausing, Sam blinks. Incredulously, his jaw drops and he stutters out, "Wait – uh – You – you actually believe me?" Sam's eyes flicker away from hers and widen. "Why is your morphine level so low? That's way too low for any standards, you're not getting any of it."

Susanna bites back a remark as he adjusts the level.

"You can actually die from pain, you know." Sam admonishes. "And, Susanna," Avoiding his gaze, Susanna grimaces, allowing the cold relief wash over, "don't blame yourself. It's only gonna make it worse. This wasn't your fault."

Unconsciously, her fingers drift back to the hole in her throat. "Then why am I the only still here?" She rasps. "Why did it not kill me? They were innocent! Every person in there was innocent! So why am I alive?"

 _Beep-beep-Beep!_

Nurses rush in and Susanna watches the world vanish in a matter of seconds. Darkness claps over her and Nothing.

No one. No one in her family came to see her out of those still living. The salt on her cheeks still feels fresh as she rereads the papers. A car accident. Gas Leak. All she could do is lie on her effing bed trying to heal. Still Alive.

Sam kept popping in, occasionally bringing coffee or some crap food that tastes better than that hospital crap. They would chat or not talk at all. Sometimes he would bring cards and Sam would teach her poker. Other times, they got down to business, and he asked questions about her family, both trying to avoid another incident. Honestly, Susanna feels a tinge of surprise every time he even shows up. For some reason, he keeps her distracted, as if he knows about her entire family - about the shitty hand life just dealt her.

On Tuesday, almost a week stuck in the hospital, her Doctor tells her she's alright for now but he would prefer she stay in the hospital longer. Susanna checks herself out of the hospital and limps into the blue 06 Jeep Wrangler. Her ride's flaming red hair marks her and Susanna twitches a small ghost of a smile. Out of the hospital and into the city they go.

"You're sure, you should be out of the hospital?" Her friend's heavy Maine accent drawls her speech and her small onyx eyes glance at Susanna every once and again.

Susanna shifts in her seat. "I'm fine, Ashleigh."

"I mean it." Ashleigh turns on the blinker and turns down the road. "It's been a week, and I'd prefer keeping my bestie alive. Sure, it's wicked awesome that you're feeling loads better, but still, should you even be taking chances? Getting clothes at my place then going to the garage? What is there some project you're trying to get done? No work is worth you in pain, Sue. Nothing!"

"For the last time, Leigh," Susanna exasperates, white the car pulls under a stop light, "I can't stand hospitals, I'm feeling better, and the sooner I get back to some form of normal, I'll be fine. I'm not gonna spontaneously combust, I swear."

"Okay…"

They fall silent, allowing pop music to flood the confines of the car. Susanna flexes her fingers in morbid amusement as the tiny scars twinge along with them. She shrugs absently. The world passes them by and some weird Taylor or Grande or whatever crap fills the silence.

Once they reach their destination, Ashleigh shifts it into park and the two hop out of the Wrangler. An age old Victorian style building – with exotic coloring to match the age - meets their view as the two of them head on up the stairs onto the white porch and through the heavy wooden doors to her apartment. To her right the floral wall-papered hall holds all faux-oaken doors and gross green carpeting. While all on the left, the same gross orangey-floral wallpaper sticks to the walls and follows white wiry stairs to the second floor. Susanna and Ashleigh turn to the right instead of the left and find themselves down door five.

After the door is unlocked, Susanna takes in the pleasant neutral beige with aesthetic white trimming. She feels transported into another world and breathes in the stupid essential oils Ashleigh has out detoxing the air. Giving herself a moment after stepping inside the apartment, she follows Ashleigh's voice as it calls out in blah-blah-blah, something or other that she didn't bother to think about.

Finding a piping hot mug at her fingertips, Susanna looks up at Ashleigh and meets her eyes. Blinking, Susanna muses absently at the many creases by the outer corner of Ashleigh's steely eyes, how her entire face hardens and those thousands of freckles seem to darken with her attitude. Ashleigh hunches over the counter, nursing her own "Kiss Me I'm Irish!" green mug of hot cocoa. Susanna's vision falls to the counter top, chewing the inside of her cheek and examining the lines in between the cloudy clue tiles. With a sigh, Ashleigh's normally high and slightly nasally voice, deepens,

"Susanna, speak to me. Are you okay?"

Her eyes find the wall next to the apartment door quite interesting while her head spins. Suddenly, the thought occurs to her – she hadn't even thought about the funerals or any of that. Her chest gets heavier and her gut churns on the inside as she unconsciously sips the piping hot drink.

"C'mon," Her voice cracks, "Please, Anna, you gotta say something to me, something other than I'm fine. Please!"

She whips her face around to focus solely on her friends face, clenching her jaw and gritting her teeth. "You really – Really? You want to know how I'm doing?" Susanna pushes the cup away and nearly slams her fist onto the counter, all the while holding her friend's gaze. "Just terrific. Spectacular even. Huh, I'd even want to throw a party, because you know –" Throwing her hands in the air, she hunches over and stuffs them back into her jean pockets. "you know what? I'm alive and my whole family is dead. Okay!" Heat pricks her eyes and struggles to not let her voice break on her. "My entire family is dead! Fucking dead! I'm alive for hell knows what reason and the freaking thing that killed my family is gone! So I'm NOT okay. I just want to grab my clothes - some real effing clothes and get back to the garage."

* * *

 **Due to circumstances, I will be unable to make promises to update regularly. However, I will try my best to actually get things done. If you spot any discrepancies between my Sam Winchester and the Canon!Sam Winchester, feel free to comment about it in a review. Like to try to keep characters as in-character as possible.**

 **As always, enjoy the story. I'll see you next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back. Unfortunately, this chapter is much shorter than I would have liked. However, on the plus side I am now working my way through season four in Supernatural and am absolutely thrilled with how it's going.**

 **Warning: Cursing, f-bombs**

 **Word Count: 1,289**

 **Genre: Drama, Angst**

 **Suggested Song: Ain't No Rest For the Wicked - Cage the Elephant**

* * *

 _Clink._ She wrestles with the carburetor at first as that's what she had been told. Twitching, she frowns as nothing turns up. The dang thing is fine.

 _Clink!_ Looking around, Susanna checks what feels like a million other things.

 _Klonk!_ Damn, that would be the case. The frown on her face threatens to become permanent as it darkens on her face.

Susanna shifts under the vehicle's hood, frowning as she visually isolates the problem. So, it wasn't the carburetor at all. Ugh, figures that Roger – stopping herself there, Susanna sets her wrench to the side. She moves her grease and oil covered hands to the device and pulls it off smoothly, grimacing at the filth underneath. Damn, the owner road this baby way too hard. At least this is a deal-able. Cost a pretty penny though, she thinks to herself as she wipes some sweat onto her forearm.

Once again the phone rings in the office and Susanna ignores it, itching for some actual music. Grimacing, Susanna starts cleaning out the pipe of grease as the ringing ceases and the voicemail beeps.

A light Maine accented female voice announces itself in the garage.

 _"Susanna, it's me… again. Look, I'm sorry about what I said. Please, please just call me back. I'll be at work by three and will be there till ten, but seriously, call me. I'm really worried about you."_

Settling the piece down on the side of the black hood, Susanna scowls despite the shadow behind her eyes. Licking her chapped lips, she exhales roughly and returns back to her work.

"Hello?" A definitive masculine voice calls out after the bell rings in sync with the door swinging open.

She nearly throws her hands against the car engine. Exasperated, Susanna groans, placing her hands on the car and leaning forward a bit.

Firm, solid cement walls boxed in the typical garage with its office located close by through the open wooden door. She sighs, straightens up, and sets the part down. Walking in the direction of the shop office, Susanna snatches a rag from one of the stools and wipes her face and neck from sweat. After wiping her hands, she drops the rag onto her shoulder and saunters out to see the customer.

Instead of the cold cement walls of the garage, the office stands neat – neater than any other due to her late sister's interference. Clean sky blue walls with white trimming and three large windows, not including the ones on both sets of door leading out to the road and into the actual garage. A vase of wild flowers sat on the black countertop of the service desk where the register and other necessities of the customer service part of that life held. She smirks slightly at the different certificates that the walls hold safe for the garage. Nice wooden plaques chock full of important knowledge of how fantastic the mechanics are – were.

Susanna looks up at the customer – looks further up – until she sees a six-foot-four guy blinking those pathetic puppy dog hazel eyes at her. Her nostrils flare and she folds her arms across her chest. Of course.

"What can I do for you?" She moves the rag from her flannel-covered shoulder and tosses it onto the countertop. Her normally loose hair starts falling loose from her tightly pinned plait on top of her head, and she shifts her weight onto her left side.

Sam awkwardly gestures, with eyes wider than she thought possible. "You work here?"

"I learned the trade from Roger, my brother-in-law." She snaps. "Now, Garrison Garage is my place. Why? Worried I'll hurt your car? That a girl can't fix it right?" her voice rises with every word until she's nearly shouting.

His prominent chin tucks down and the overgrown Green Bean Giant seems properly chastised. He shakes his head, "No! No," Sam grows softer with the last word, his eyes giving her that weird look again. "Never thought that for a second. I'm just surprised you're out of the hospital and working so soon."

Vaguely, Susanna thinks of Great Dane Puppy, giving her the saddest, beat down look in the world. With a growl, she moves to in front of the counter and leans against it, folding her arms back around her chest. Raising an eyebrow, she sighs and shakes her head.

"So, you wouldn't be here if you didn't have a car to be fixed." The mechanic breaks the silence. "Which is it?"

Sam stuffs his hands inside his jean pockets. "The '67 Impala."

"Pfft! That's yours!" She laughs. After a moment and he doesn't respond, she clears her throat and grabs a water from the counter top and undoes the cover. "Can't believe a guy like you would have a beast like that." Shaking her head, she takes a sip of the water. "What'd you do? Win it in a game of poker?"

"Look, it's none of your business." He attempts before Susanna cuts back in.

A strand of hair flutters loose down her back but she ignores it in turn for giving him crap. "That car is a classic! The history of how long it was with its previous owner and how long it actually has been with you is pretty helpful. Either you or its previous owner has been riding that poor baby pretty damn hard. All that reckless driving is killer to a beauty like that. Seriously, plus you barely look the type to own a vehicle like that. So, if you didn't win it in game of poker, you inherited it from someone. Who'd you inherit it from?"

Just as his face draws on a non-emotional mask, the air shifts. Her thick flannel shirt does not justice in protecting her from the pinpricks that shiver up her skin nor from the cold that floods her veins. The figure known as Sam Winchester freezes over, as if time stopped. Nothing about the situation feels real, as Susanna digs her fingernails into her palm – just to make sure. No, the air is too cold and the severe weight of the question looms over them like a dark cloud, like a Nor'Easter rumbling ahead, going to strike.

Steeled are his eyes and harsh are his words the moment he uses them. Susanna gulps as she listens to the heavy speech that has so much emotion drained from it but still feels so raw.

"That car – " He breathes in again, wiping his face rapidly with his hand, "That car was my brother's."

Blood drained from her face yet all she could hear is the thumping of her heart in her ears. Her gaze moves, shifts anywhere but looking at him. Susanna's heart twists inside of her and her stomach seizes. Biting her tongue from saying anything else, the two stand there in silence. Dryly, she swallows and her throat aches both from the dryness and from the wound still healing. The giant of a man doesn't move from his position. However, his long arms hand numbly by his sides, his back bending under the knowledge of his brother's death. Once again, she doesn't resist the urge to urge to watch him again. They meet each other's gaze and hazel eyes have lost their ever-present shine, returning her look glazed over and raw.

Bell above the door rings.

"Hey Sam!" Visibly, the man snaps to attention, the display he had before her vanishes in a flash and he turns around with a smile planted on his face. The six-foot man returns his smile before it hesitantly drops out of existence. His buzzed blond head tilts slightly as he visibly takes everything in. He blinks. Scratching his head awkwardly, he remarks, "Uh…I take it you're busy?"

* * *

 **Hopefully, you'll enjoy. R &R, suggest things, y'all know the drill. What do you guys think of the Sam I've written? Of Susanna? Seriously curious.**

 **Well Enjoy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Still don't own Supernatural**

 **Word Count: 1,213**

 **Genre: Angst**

 **Suggested Song: Stressed Out - Twenty One Pilots**

* * *

Kid is short. Shorter than Sam, but taller than her by a good deal. Roughly six foot something and all with dazzling eyes and cropped golden hair. Susanna frowns at him, observing what looks to be hardly a threat other than (maybe, just maybe) his temper. With a grimace, she steps forward and moves her hand to shake his.

"Susanna, and you are?"

"Uh, this is my brother -" "Adam. My name's Adam. Nice to meet you." He shakes her hand and raised his eyebrow at his awkward brother.

Smiling lightly, she shakes hardily before releasing his hand. "Yeah, you too. Maybe you'll actually give me answers. Sasquatch over here seems immune."

He nods, "What do you wanna know?"

"Adam!" Sam smiles through his bitch face number twelve, "Can I talk to you? Outside."

"Sorry, guess answers will have to wait."

She shrugs and watches to brothers strut outside to have a vivid conversation. A smile plays on her lips as she considers locking the door and continuing back to work on the sweet '67 Chevy. Alas, it falls back off as she recalls its owner. Scratching the back of her head, Susanna leans against the counter and waits for the two men to finish having a super-sized-toddler fight. Bell chimes. Both men, a little wary of the other, plant pleasant smiles on their faces and address Susanna once again. She smiles politely all the while clutching her upper arm to the point of it turning partially white.

Sam does his whole random gesturing thing before speaking, when he does begin, Susanna hears the strain in his voice. "So – uh – Susanna, look, I just need my car back as soon as possible. Is there any way you can hurry up on the repairs?"

Bouncing her head side to side, she makes a face and contemplates. "Mm, possibly, it'll cost you extra."

"How much?"

"The truth." She returns the favor and dishes out her best bitch face. "Look, you know what the hell happened with my family. I currently am working on what you need to get that thing, so you are gonna listen to me and tell me the truth. You told me it was some supernatural creature but you're not telling what kind of creature. Try telling me. You'll find I'm pretty open minded these days." She growls out at the end.

Silence hangs heavy, looming over them as a cobweb. Sure enough, it cracks.

"It was a demon. Black eyes, sinister MO, definitely fits the bill."

"Adam!" Sam curses.

Her heart hardened. Slowly, it stops its beating and the flesh transfigures into stone. Ice floods her veins and Susanna ceases to breathe. So close she can taste it, but even that sense has dulled and lays forgotten in her fading mind. A demon destroyed her family.

But Adam does not stop, he continues to go forward with his talking. As he does speak, he steps closer to Susanna and out of arms-reach of Sam, crossing his arms across his chest. "We're trying to figure out exactly why it's been here, because they usually fit into some sort of pattern, that's why you have different variations of demons – natural disaster demons, elemental demons, etc."

"Adam!" Sam glowers at his brother. "Seriously?" He sighs and runs his fingers through his long hair, giving Susanna a pained smile. "So -yeah, demons. One of them possessed your brother and murdered your family. We're trying to find exactly which one so we can send the bastard back to where it crawled out from."

"Okay, how do you kill it?"

"Well with an Angel blade or the Colt." Adam holds his chin in the palm of his hand.

At the exact same time, Sam spouts, "You're okay with this?"

Susanna glances between the brothers and finally ends up looking straight at Sam's hazel puppy-dog eyes and frowns. "I could lie and say yeah, totally cool with this. But I'm not. I'm the least bit okay with everything that has happened. The only thing I'm okay with, is knowing how to kill this son of a bitch."

The shorter and leaner brother wolf-whistles with a wide grin. "Wow, church girl cusses. Betcha don't do that on Sunday mornings."

Without a second thought, she steps forward and leans in, poking Adam in the chest. Her calloused finger brushing against cotton fabric and surprisingly _quite firm_ chest muscle. Ignoring the apparently decently jacked up Blondie, Susanna growls at him, bearing her teeth at the man. "Just lost my family, my home, and my entire life. Excuse me if I feel like doing a little bit of cursing, you jackass. Angry does not mean you flirt with me. Angry means you get the flippin' hell away from me."

Adam's face settles into a pallor appearance, complete with thinned lips and furrowed heavy brows. He watches her, analyzes her, and she comes away from him, sighs, and her features arrange back to their former partially irritated arraignment.

Neither brother can begin to speak before she starts up again, "It's been a flippin' long day and you haven't exactly made it any easier. So, here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna continue to work on the car. You are gonna go back to wherever you crawled out of and research this thing. And when you go to kill it, I want in."

Uneasily, they glance at one another. At first it appears to be an attempt of subtlety, however Susanna frowns. "Okay, fine. What the hell are you not telling me?"

"Susanna," Sam begins, clearing his throat. "We discovered something at the morgue today."

She nods, feeling the bile climb up her throat.

"There is a body missing, other than Jed's. We believe Jonathan is somewhere with that demon."

"What are you saying?" Susanna grits her teeth. "My baby brother is alive?"

"The only body unrecovered was Jonathan's." Adam reiterates. "We're gonna find him, we promise."

Susanna snorts, "Yeah, not without me."

The Sasquatch raises his eyebrows, drawing his lips into a thin pink line. "Yeah, sorry. You have no training and we can't afford to take you with us, you'll only be a liability."

Her arms shoot down to her sides, fists and jaw clench tightly and her knuckles turn white. Her face reddens and her coffee-stained teeth bare at them.

"Guess what Sasquatch, Chachi, I'm coming. This is my baby brother. I swore to protect him," She yells, "and I will do that! I screwed up last time but I will do everything in my power to find him and protect him."

"Sam…" Adam murmurs, watching his older brother's pale face and shaking fists. "Don't."

"You know what, Susanna." Sam's voice harkens back the memory of freezing winters and winds that cut to the marrow, back to when he spoke on the Impala and his brother. Susanna steps back slightly with her eyes widening with every word. "Fine," His jaw twitches and his nostrils flare, "You believe you can survive long enough to find your little brother? Fine, come along with, but this is on you. It's not my fault you have a death wish."

Snarling back at him, Susanna gains some pluck back, "Good, the car will be done by this weekend. After that, we'll go bring my little brother home."

* * *

 **R &R**

 **Sorry for the shorter chapter. Things have been insane. First, I'm moving, and then I'm not. Then I am moving again, and whoops, now I'm not but people are trying to convince me to move. Finally able to start looking for schools and apartments in the area. Etc. Etc. Etc. You guys don't care too much, but I felt you deserved to at least know that life's been so crazy that I haven't been able to do as much writing as I've been wanting too :( Hopefully a longer chapter next time around.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Definitely don't own _Supernatural_.**

 **Warning: Mild Cursing**

 **Word Count: 1847**

 **Genre: Adventure; Drama**

 **Suggested Song: Renegades - X Ambassadors**

* * *

Car grumbles as Sam presses steadily on the gas, groaning under the new strains. All the way from New Hampshire to New York the state, Sam's pushing the limits of her endurance. Recklessly steering the beautiful classic through traffic and down highways, all the while blasting hippie music. The other brother, Adam, is relaxing and rolls his shoulders and lazily watches the blurry outdoors. Seventy in a forty and only just fixed, Susanna nearly gags at Sam's handle of the vehicle.

"Dude. Chill! Handling this baby like that is only gonna make it go sooner. I just fixed her up!" Susanna tenses as they fly over rocky terrain.

Hazel eyes flicker up towards the mirror and he meets her scrunched up face with pinched brow and pursed lips. "Baby?"

"Yeah?" She throws her hands in the air, "So?"

"Don't."

Susanna folds her arms across her chest and huffs. "Fine."

The indie music singing from the radio grinds at Susanna's ears, nauseating the female of the group as they speed down the backroad. Some freaking Birdy song twitters on and her teeth grit. With a sigh, she leans back against the leather upholstery and closes her eyes, feeling the sway of the Chevy Impala under her. Behind the canvas of her eyelids, she follows the shadows that soar over the car and the sunshine that beams down at her. She can't quite shake the tenseness from her, traveling in the same car as two freaky dudes who are her only link to her brother. Susanna's mind sways and her hearing dims.

"Hello?" She spins around the dust beaten ghost town. Winds swirl all about her, raising the dirt everywhere and she coughs. Her vision goes blurry and her skin and eyes itch insanely.

Using her arms as shields, Susanna yells again. "Anyone?"

Darting behind a shoddy building, that aches and creaks with the slightest touch of a breeze, she coughs into her dirt covered elbow. Susanna dry hacks for a good few seconds, before spying a hat and bandana waving off an old horse post. Within minutes, she can see and breathe a little easier, no more coughing up sand.

Looking up, expecting to see the old ghost town, Susanna falls and stumbles back. A shadow of a human being stands in front of her with a tan hand reaching out. Squinting to find some sort of distinguishable features on the man, she jolts forward.

Heaving a breath, Susanna stares outside at the numerous shadows of trees and the sky, blackened entirely except for a shining moon, glimmering. No headlights, just the familiar forests of pine. She takes a moment and slows down her breathing, wrapping her arms around her. Her mind spinning endlessly, groping for the vanishing dream. She takes a glance over at Adam who's peering at her concerned eyes. He makes move to speak but never gets the chance.

"Hello." A gravelly voice greets from beside her.

Susanna freezes.

"I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord." She ganders a view of the mystery man.

His appearance is nondescript. This apparent Angel is Caucasian, with Irish roots. His hair is black as coal, thick and messy while his ivory pale skin is patterned in wrinkles, aging his face beyond his physical years. The 'Angel' Castiel dons a loose business suit along with a creepy ass trenchcoat. Susanna could have continued to go on with the weirdness of this- this – Angel, yet she ceases. Her own gray eyes catch his blue. They're endless, ancient, bittersweet. Despite all of this,

"You heaven's holy tax accountant?" is what she goes with.

He blinks. Peering at her, Susanna feels oddly naked as if he sincerely can – no that's utter horseshit. There's not freaking way. Nope, she meets his eyes once more before breaking to address Adam and Sam. "So really, who the hell is this?"

"He's Cas." Adam shrugs. "Besides, I thought you were 'okay' with everything, Susanna."

Sam barks back, "Adam." He sighs and keeps his eyes on the road. "He is in fact an angel, the only one that isn't a douchebag. He likes to show up completely unannounced as well."

"I don't understand." Cas tilts his head, staring eerily at her. "Why are you here?"

Susanna snorts, leaning against the car door and kicking her feet onto the backseat. "Why are you? Doesn't heaven need some sort of accounting business done?"

"I-I do not understand that reference." He squints at her.

Sam sighs, his grasp on the wheel tightening. "Susanna." She rolls her eyes and glances outdoors while Sam continues the conversation. "What's up Cas?"

"I tracked down the demon to a port in Washington. There seems to be a heavy guard surrounding the naval facility." He explained, motioning some with his hands.

Adam hummed, biting down on his lower lip. "Is this the same demon, Cas? 'Cause traveling from New Hampshire to Washington is kinda fast, especially when it's in a meatsuit."

"I am fairly certain." He bobs his head.

"So," Susanna voices, raising her head to the insanely tall guys. "What does it want with me and my brother? Last I knew, they don't exactly leave survivors. And if they do, either someone got there quick enough or they have a reason."

The hum from the Impala carried on as white noise, yet all human noise had ceased. Other than Sam, who was driving, both Adam and Cas observed her. Adam gapes like a fish. The Angel searches her with his creepy as hell eyes, the crow's feet deepening and his pink lips thinning. She swallows.

"Do you-" Adam licks his chapped lips, "Have you met demons before? Studied on them?"

"I go to church." It comes out as a question rather than a statement and the men and Angel exchange looks. "I guess I kinda remember a sermon or two on the subject."

"What kind of church did you go to?"

"Baptist."

"And they teach about demons?"

"Sure." She shrugs, regretting even bringing it up.

"Susanna, the reason I bring this up is because that's hunter knowledge. Most people, most _Christians_ we meet don't even know that."

"Question has been posed, who wants to take a shot at the answer?" Susanna ignores Adam.

Castiel purses his lips and shifts in his seat, facing downwards before turning back to her. "There are multiple reasons for demons to do things. For the answer, it may perhaps rest with either you or one of your two brothers."

"I see." Her voice trails off and she looks outside again to see the lights from the motel grow brighter as they pull into the motel parking lot. A strange fluttering noise snaps her attention and she finds Castiel gone. Susanna's lips part and her brows knit together in confusion.

Adam shrugs. "Yeah, he does that a lot. Better get used to it."

Vacantly, Susanna nods, but her attention isn't on that Winchester. Her eyes linger on Sam Winchester who has been oddly quiet most of the trip. His face is drawn down; the crazy long hair shields his hazel eyes from her like a curtain, yet from the jerky movements of his hands and feet, Susanna frowns. He hands a card to Adam who nods and trots into the motel office, while he climbs out of the Impala and pops open the trunk. Susanna slides out herself and takes her own bags before taking one of the duffle bags. His arm holds it easily but she nearly falls over herself as she struggles to maintain a vertical position.

Adam grins at the two of them and holds up the key. "Room 17, ground level, and" he drags out the 'an' annunciates the 'd', "It should be all the way down."

"Awesome." Sam nods, all the enthusiasm completely not there.

Adam unlocks the door and Susanna darts inside. She places her stuff down behind the couch and instantly spies the beds – the _Two_ beds – and groans. "I am not sharing with you guys. Barely know you."

"I'll take the couch," Sam grumbles. That's when Susanna notices the heavy purple bags underneath his eyes.

Susanna raises a thick eyebrow and points in front of him to a bed. "Go to sleep on a bed. I took a nap in the car, you didn't."

Sam pushes her arm down and sets everything down in front of the beds and before either of them realize it, he is out like a light. A low whistling sound can be heard and she peers at Adam. The younger, blonder Winchester folds his arms over his chest with a look of approval.

"What?"

"I've tried doing that to him in the past and he wouldn't budge." He explains, shifting to Sam's unconscious person. "This is the first time I've seen him listen to someone other than Bobby."

Susanna, catching on to what Adam's is doing, moves to the other side of the bed and helps him lift Sam's heavy body up the bed and resting his head on actual pillows. Once they manage to get Sam more comfortable, they rest on the other Queen bed. Adam pulls out two beers. Uncapping one, he hands it to Susanna. Adam hesitantly holds it back for a moment.

"Wait, do church girls drink?" He can't hold back a smirk playing at his lips

She bumps him with her elbow and snatches the alcohol from him. Adam grins at her with a laugh sparking in his azure eyes. Leaning back, she takes a sip from the beer, feeling the warmth of the drink flood through her system. Susanna sighs, content.

"So," Adam starts again, "tomorrow, I'm gonna teach you how to use a gun."

She takes another sip, knowing that she shouldn't drink too fast. "What kind?"

"Rifle. Ever use one?"

She shakes her head no.

"Okay, ever use a gun at all?" He takes a swig of his.

Shrugging, Susanna holds the beer down by her knees. "I've used a handgun, a .45."

"Gotcha." He rests his elbows on his knees.

The rest of their time drinking in quiet. It feels peaceable, and Susanna grows wistful. Her mind's eye follows Roger and Jed giving her her first beer at sixteen and laughing as she gets drunk, laughing at everything. Jed visiting on her birthday, going out for a drive in his pickup to Garrison Tower and having a small drink. Markus, thinking that she's never drunk before in her life, giving her some sissy Twisted Tea when she demands having liquor for her eighteenth. Takes a little more to get her drunk these days. Susanna smiles and studies the amber bottle. Even though it's half empty, she gets up and places it on the kitchenette table and pries Adam's from his hands as he snores, bent over.

With a shake of her head, she drags Adam back on to his bed, covers him just like they did with Sam, and turns off the light. Locking the door, Susanna pulls down the blinds and settles on the couch. Sleep pulls her under and she loses herself to dreamless bliss.

* * *

 **Finally put this chapter! You have no idea how long it took me to write, rewrite this chapter like a thousand times! Enjoy the chapter, shoot me a review on your thoughts and on how my characterization of Adam, Sam, and Castiel are. I'm trying so hard to actually keep them in character, I have this obnoxious habit of not writing characters in character. But I'm trying, so tell me how I did!**

 **Reviews are love!**


	6. Hiatus

Dear Readers,

Unfortunately at this time, none of my stories will be updated for close to a year unless things change. at this point in my life, I am entering the U.S. military and must leave for the following time period. when I am free to write again, I will do so.

Either I will leave this account in the hands of my boyfriend and he will give his own updates which (unless noted otherwise by myself) will be seen as AUs for this universe or this will not be updated at all until I am actually back to free writing time. In either situation, I am sorry that you will not be enjoying any more updates for the foreseavle future.

Until We Meet Again,

Sora Maro


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